


Wash Away The Miles

by misha_anon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Fallen Castiel, M/M, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel shows up at the MoL bunker exhausted, hungry, and dirty.  Sam and Dean welcome him home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wash Away The Miles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EarthAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthAngel/gifts).



> _I really want Sam and Dean to welcome Castiel to the bunker with open arms and take care of him._
> 
> Sam is only briefly in this story. Sort of by request. _Though I don't think this is quite what you had in mind. I was attacked by a fluff monster midway through. Oops._

When Castiel makes it to the Men of Letters bunker, he's filthy.  More importantly, he's starving and exhausted.  Dean pulls him inside and into a crushing embrace that leaves him struggling to breathe.  When Sam joins in the hug and squeezes just as tightly, Castiel is almost certain he's going to pass out.  They take their time holding onto one another, and it's only now that he knows he's in a safe place that Castiel can finally relax.

When they finally release him, Castiel's first words are, "I'm so hungry."

"Sam'll make you a sandwich," Dean answers, his hands still lingering on Castiel's shoulders.  Sam agrees and leaves the two of them standing in the doorway as he takes off down the hallway.

Castiel doesn't argue when Dean pulls him into another hug, chin pressed to the top of his shoulder as he squeezes too tight again.  After a long moment, Dean pulls away and smiles, then reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"You hurt, Cas?" Dean's voice is rough as he moves instantly into field triage mode, examining the remnants of cuts and bruises on Castiel's face and neck before pulling his hoodie off to inspect his arms.  He tests Castiel's muscles, squeezing over bruises to check the bones beneath, worry tightening the skin around his eyes when Castiel flinches.  

"Nothing's broken," Castiel answers wearily, trying to return the smile as he extracts his arm from Dean's grip.  "I'm fine, Dean."  Dean grunts in answer and goes right back to squeezing Castiel's arms.

When Sam returns a moment later with a hastily put together sandwich and a glass of milk, the brothers all but drag Castiel into the familiar research room.  He takes a seat at one of the long tables and Dean pulls a chair beside his - so close it's nearly touching.  Castiel eats quickly, hunger pangs finally beginning to ease as he finishes the sandwich, then finishes draining the glass of milk.

The silence that follows only lasts a few seconds before Dean and Sam launch into questions, throwing them at Castiel faster than he's able to process what they're asking.  He tries to answer, willing himself to focus, but it's a losing battle.  He stares at his own dirty hands, picks at his fingernails, and tries his best to give them the information they need.

It's Sam who finally seems to notice that Castiel is too tired to think clearly.  Tears sting Castiel's eyes when Dean tells him they've got a bedroom set aside just for him.  As he's pushing himself away from the table, Sam whisks his plate and glass away.

"I'll answer all your questions," Castiel tells Dean who nods quickly and brushes off the apology that follows.  "As soon as I wake up."  Torn between his desire to fall into bed in his own room and the dirt that's pulling uncomfortably at his skin, he asks: "Is there somewhere I can shower?"

Dean's face lights up at the question, and he pulls Castiel down another hallway, up a short flight of stairs, and through a shorter hall.  When he opens the door to the room, neat and clinical and spacious, Castiel looks around in confusion.  There's only a big claw foot bathtub, no shower to be had.  When he starts to protest because he _knows_ how to take a shower, Dean easily convinces him that this will be better.  

After Dean starts water running in the tub, he disappears back down the hallway.  Castiel strips out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor before he steps into the rising water.  It's hot enough to hurt and Castiel's breath hisses through clenched teeth as he takes a moment to adjust to the temperature.  Once he doesn't feel the urge to jump out of the tub, he slowly lowers himself into the water, taking his time to avoid a repeat of the unpleasant first immersion.

By the time he's sitting flat, the water is swirling around his waist.  Castiel inhales deeply, the hot steam rising from his bath water soothing his lungs and making him just a little sleepier.  The light knock on the door surprises him, but Dean doesn't wait for an answer before he reenters the bathroom carrying a towel and a pile of clean clothes.

At first, he sits on the floor beside the tub, watching Castiel silently.  When the water is swirling around Castiel's ribs, he decides to turn it off.  With a tired sigh, he reaches for the bar of soap on the dish beside him and begins to clean himself.  Slowly, Dean starts to talk.  His voice is first hesitant as he tells Castiel about Sam's illness, and "it was the weirdest thing how one minute he was just fine".

Castiel listens, nodding and interjecting an occasional question to clarify.  Dean stutters when he asks where Ezekiel is, shrugs, and waves a hand.  It's an unimportant detail Castiel decides, assuming his brother had more pressing matters to attend.  As they talk about Castiel's trip and the way Kevin took care of the bunker and the fact that Crowley is still both alive and partially a demon, Dean begins to drift slowly closer to the tub, then toward the back.  When Castiel has finished scrubbing the dirt from his body, Dean is behind him.

"Get your hair wet," he tells Castiel.  Castiel leans back and wets his hair, but before he can sit back up straight, Dean gently pulls him against the sloping back of the tub with only his head above the lip.  Dean wets his hands and grabs the shampoo off the shelf.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asks, puzzled, but soon enough Dean's fingers are working the shampoo through his hair.  His first instinct is to argue, but the way Dean's fingertips massage his scalp kills the protest on his lips.  Castiel slides down slightly and sighs.

While Dean scrubs his scalp, nimble fingertips working out tension he didn't even know was there, Castiel's eyelids start to droop.  When Dean starts to scratch lightly in circles, Castiel is almost certain he will die from the pleasure.  Goosebumps rise down his arms and he shivers, relaxing further.  The tub is long and comfortable and Castiel stretches himself out in the hot water, his head tipped back over the edge while Dean continues to gently scratch and massage.

He's beginning to doze when Dean whispers beside his ear, "Don't fall asleep unless you can breathe underwater."

Castiel jerks and sits up straight with a yawn, but Dean's hand is on his shoulder, a light touch slick with shampoo.  His soft laughter sends a warm charge through Castiel's chest.  Dean's fingers move to the back of his neck, rubbing in slow circles, his way still eased by the slippery shampoo, and Castiel feels as though his bones are turning to jelly.

He groans softly as Dean holds him steady with one hand and rubs his shoulders with the other, his fingers returning frequently to scratch at Castiel's scalp.  He takes his time and when he finishes and tells Castiel to rinse his hair, Cas finds it hard to move.  He does as instructed, though, and after Dean has rinsed his hands, too, he slides his fingers through Castiel's hair one last time and pronounces it clean.

When Castiel finally crawls out of the lukewarm water, Dean offers him the towel to wrap around his waist.  As he stands on the fluffy mat beside the tub, Dean again inspects his bruises and cuts before he lets Castiel dry himself off.  Once Dean is satisfied that there are indeed no broken bones, he disappears again, leaving Castiel to towel himself off and slip into the underwear, shorts, and t-shirt he left.  They fit well enough and, more important, they're soft and smell nice.

Castiel stretches, feeling clean and warm in his new-old clothes and he's about to head out of the bathroom to find out where his bed is when Dean nearly knocks him over.  After a quick mutual apology, Dean beams and tells Castiel to turn around.  Before he can even turn all the way around, Dean is sliding a thick, soft robe up his arms.  When it's settled around his shoulders, Dean turns Castiel gently back around and pulls it closed, then ties the belt loosely around his waist.

"Welcome home," he says, still beaming.  "Your bedroom is right down here."


End file.
